Fiction by Lorraine

Weeks had passed since the apocalypse alert. The Scoobies had researched the dire prediction the slain demon had made to no avail. Giles had even called Wesley in L.A., but they’d had no luck either. Spike had been a regular fixture at the Scooby meetings for some time now. Xander had suggested that Spike make himself useful, and the vampire had surprisingly agreed. Even more surprising to Xander was the way that everyone, except Buffy, warmed to the vampire. Tentative friendships were beginning on all sides. Anya had left some time ago. Another surprise—she had deeded the Magic Box to Dawn, with Giles legally in charge until Dawn came of age. Xander thought that move was probably Anya’s bid for sympathy, should she ever find herself a target for the Slayer.

Perhaps most surprising of all was how little Xander missed her. The day she finally left, he’d cried into his beer and watched Lifetime until Spike came home from his regular poker game and told him story after ridiculous story of all the times Dru had left him in the century they’d been together. Xander knew that Spike was being more honest with him than he’d been with anyone for a long time. It wasn’t like the vampire to bare his soul (pun intended) or leave himself open to ridicule. But he did for Xander, to make him feel better. Xander realized then that Spike truly cared about him, considered him a real friend.

This realization forced Xander to think about his own feelings for Spike. He could barely articulate the emotions, even mentally, but Xander knew that some part of him wanted something more than friendship from Spike. He couldn’t stop comparing the vampire to Anya and finding Anya wanting. Spike cherished the very thing she’d given up so readily. Xander thought about the vampire constantly, planning their evenings together while he was waiting for five o’clock to roll around. On his lunch breaks, he rented movies he thought might appeal to Spike or spark some storytelling of his glory days. He even found himself watching Spike sleep in the early mornings before he got ready for work.

Spike still slept in Xander’s room. The vampire had had nightmares for so long, that by the time they became more manageable, neither man thought of moving Spike’s bed back to the guest room. Xander thought of his bedroom as their room, now. Which he knew was a bit weird. As was the fact that he now woke up ten minutes earlier than he used to, just so he could watch Spike sleep. The vampire always slept as close to naked as he thought Xander’s sense of propriety would allow, and his covers always seemed to wind into a thin ribbon around his hips by morning. Xander would stare at Spike’s torso, so pale he could see blue veins marbling the skin. He would let himself think, for just a moment, about what it might feel like to snuggle up to that chest and run his fingers through Spike’s blonde curls. Then he would quickly jump out of bed, take a freezing shower, and tell himself his hormones were just overactive because he’d been celibate since before Anya left. Despite Spike’s lecture on human sexuality, Xander wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he was anything other than the kind of guy who fell for curvy, bosomy, girly, female demons.

A month after Anya left, Giles called off the research frenzy into the apocalypse. “At this time, we simply haven’t enough information to proceed; we’ll have to wait until something happens before we move further in our investigation.” The Watcher frowned in disapproval as Spike and Xander continued whispering very loudly to each other. He could make out the phrase, “Paige so could kick Piper’s ass!” followed by a resounding snort from Spike. “Knock it off, you two, or I’ll be forced to banish you to opposite corners of the room.” Although neither man looked particularly chastened, they stopped talking and moved their argument to a series of heatedly scrawled notes.

“Buffy, you will, of course, pay careful attention to anything out of the ordinary, as will we all. Now please, go live your young lives.”

Xander and Spike walked companionably back to the apartment. “I thought Rupert was never gonna shut his bloody hole. How fucking long does it take to say, ‘Stop researching. Go home.’” The vampire took a long drag off his cigarette.

“Yeah. Giles not so much with the brevity.” When Spike raised his eyebrow, Xander protested, “What? Only Willow’s allowed to use the three-dollar words?”

Suddenly, three men surrounded the friends, one of them brandishing a tire iron. The largest one said, “Give us all your money and your jackets.”

Spike immediately vamped out and snarled back, “Move it along, mates. Nothing but trouble for you here.”

The big one laughed. “You’re Spike, right? You have a chip in your head that keeps you from hurting humans. Willy gives tips to more than just the Slayer.”

Xander saw for the first time real fear in Spike’s eyes at the prospect of a fight. The vampire couldn’t defend himself and couldn’t count on Xander to stave off three assailants. Xander saw the big one lunge for him. He waited for the attack as Spike had taught him, and managed to flip the guy over his shoulder. Spike was writhing on the ground in agony, but he’d knocked the armed guy unconscious before the chip incapacitated him. Xander grabbed the tire iron from the man’s limp fingers and caught the big guy across the midsection as he came back into the fight. The man crumpled into a heap. The remaining attacker took off down the street when Xander ran at him with the weapon. Spike had managed to stand, and the two of them hurried to the apartment.

Xander felt antsy. His adrenaline was high. He turned on the TV and heard Spike call, “Gonna take a shower. That stupid git knocked me in a puddle.” The young man paced for a moment before deciding that a beer would probably calm him down.

“Ahh, tasty good,” he said aloud after a swallow of Killian’s Red. As Xander relaxed, he began replaying the fight in his mind. He suddenly realized that he had never been afraid for his own life; he’d only worried that he wouldn’t be able to protect Spike. He thought about that as he took another long pull on his beer. He wanted to believe that his desire to defend Spike stemmed from the fact that Spike was the only real guy friend he’d had in years, a decade almost. But Xander knew there was more to that desire, like, desire.

Oh, hell, you may as well go on and think it, Xander. You like Spike. You want to spend all your time with him. You constantly try to impress him. You want him to be happy and sane, and you’re jealous when skanky vampire hos try to hit on him. You pretend to like Passions just so you can sit beside him on the couch when it’s playing. Xander was pulled from his reverie by the unmistakable sound of Spike screaming in the shower.

Xander ran to the bathroom door. “Spike, what’s wrong?” The vampire didn’t answer him, just continued to scream. When Xander heard a loud crash, he opened the door and rushed inside. Spike had torn the shower curtain down as he fell and was stretched across the tub, hot water pelting his nude body. Xander tried desperately to ignore the male nudity as he reached around the moaning vampire to kill the water. “Spike, what’s wrong?” he repeated.

“The chip….it keeps firing. I haven’t done anything, bloody hell, I can’t think. Make it stop.” Spike started to pound his head into the white porcelain. Xander grabbed his friend’s shoulders and held him tightly, although he knew if Spike really freaked out, he wouldn’t be strong enough to restrain him. The vampire’s skin was cool and smooth under his hands. Xander tried again not to think about the male nudity and how much of it was pressed up against him. Spike slowly calmed in his arms.

“Come on. Let’s get you dressed. Giles will know how to fix this.” Xander pulled Spike to his feet and tried almost successfully to avert his eyes from Spike’s naked body. The vampire really was beautiful, almost like a Greek statue—all long, sinewy muscle and ivory skin. Xander shook his head to clear it. When he started mentally composing Pindaric odes (thank you Willow, for that World Lit I lecture) to a nude Spike in the bathroom, he knew he was seriously smitten.

“I’m okay now. It stopped firing, but no telling when it’ll start again. D’you really think the Watcher will help me?”

“Yes, I do, Spike, but only if you put on some clothes.” Xander held out a towel to the vampire, who seemed more than a little amused at what Xander was sure he would call “bloody human modesty.” Xander thanked all the gods and goddesses and minor beneficent deities that Spike seemed unaware of the effect he was having on him.

Later that night, Giles and Willow met Xander and Spike at the Magic Box. They both looked sleepy and slightly annoyed at the it’s-urgent-but-secret-so-don’t-tell-Buffy wakeup call.

“Xander what is this about? It’s after midnight.” Xander hoped Giles was trying to sound more exasperated than he really felt. If the Watcher was in a foul mood, he was less likely to help Spike.

“Spike and I were attacked earlier tonight. By three humans.”

“What!” Willow cried. Xander could see the wheels already turning in his best friend’s head. “How did you escape? Spike can’t fight humans.”

“I would be able to, if I didn’t have this bleeding chip in my skull.” Spike said defensively. Xander glared at him. The plan had been to bring it up delicately, after Willow and Giles had been properly frightened by their greatly embellished story. Oh, what the hell, may as well have it all out in the open.

“I think I know where this meeting is leading, and I know what our resident Slayer would have to say about your request. I inquire on Buffy’s behalf: Are the two of you seriously asking us to remove the chip from Spike’s head? The chip that prevents him from killing humans, you included, Xander,” Giles asked, almost perfunctorily.

“Yeah, we are. Spike could have died. I could have died. We both would have died if Spike hadn’t been teaching me to fight or if he hadn’t managed to take one guy out before the chip fired.” Xander argued.

“Not to mention, the damn thing doesn’t work right anymore. It’s been going off all night for no reason.” Spike grumbled.

“I can see how that would be a problem,” Willow said. “Giles, you know I can remove the chip from Spike. We talked about this before. It’s a simple spell, really.”

“Wait, you’ve had conversations about de-chipping Spike? When? And why was I not involved?” Xander demanded.

“Xander, I have attempted on several occasions to speak with Buffy about her unreasonable, ah, distaste for Spike, but to no avail. I am perhaps the last person I myself could imagine championing the cause of a souled vampire. Angel did, after all, take from me the once real chance I have had at love in this godforsaken place. But you are not Angel, Spike. You have never been anything like him. I imagine that, were you to lose your soul, you would be much the same as you are now. I can honestly say that I trust you, and so do the others. You have done nothing but earn that trust since you returned to Sunnydale. We did not involve you in this discussion, Xander, because we felt that you needed all your friends firmly on your side while you are dealing with Anya’s departure. I wanted to give you as much time to adjust to her absence as possible before calling down the wrath of a Slayer on all of us.”

Xander was shocked. He hadn’t expected the Watcher to capitulate so easily. He knew that Giles had begun to treat Spike as if he were really one of the gang, but Xander never expected this level of acceptance for the vampire. He looked at Spike, who seemed shocked as well.

“Thanks, Rupert. Never thought I’d hear you say anything like that to me. I can’t believe you’re willing to cross the Slayer to help me. Means a lot.” Spike didn’t even temper the heartfelt statement with a joke.

“Frankly, Spike, I’m surprised it took this long and such a horrific event for you to ask us to help.”

Spike nodded and replied, “Now, about the Slayer. I can’t just wait around for her to change her bloody mind about me. This damn thing’ll kill me before then.”

“No, I suppose you are right, Spike. We will have to remove the chip now and explain our actions to Buffy later.” Giles looked uncomfortable with this solution, but turned to Spike and said, “We may begin the ritual now, if you are ready.”

Spike said, “I’m ready. Just get it out of me.”

Willow concentrated, said a few words in Latin, and they all blinked when a microchip materialized on the table. Spike quickly smashed it with his fist and brushed the bits into a trashcan.

Xander suddenly suggested, “Why tell Buffy at all? What she doesn’t know, won’t . . .”

“Xander, we can’t lie to Buffy. Now that I’ve worked the mojo, she can’t put the chip back in. Any argument she makes will be moot anyway,” Willow said.

Spike crossed his arms. “I’m not telling her. And neither is he.” Spike pointed at Xander.

Giles vigorously polished his glasses. “Yes, well, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to postpone this particular announcement for a few days.”



Part Four